


The Best Stark Christmas Pageant Ever

by Phylwannabe



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff; Christmas Play; Pregnancy; Family Feels; Overall Fun with the Starklings, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:41:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28080312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phylwannabe/pseuds/Phylwannabe
Summary: Catelyn Stark is persuaded to step in last minute to produce the annual Christmas pageant at the church.   It is less than two weeks until Christmas Eve and she needs all the Starks, as well as their best friends,  to pull together to make it happen.  Sansa is expecting so she is the obvious choice for Mary as well as being  chief costume designer, but the rest of the cast and crew aren't as trustworthy as her oldest daughter. And then there is the matter of Joseph....
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Gilly/Samwell Tarly, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Robb Stark/Jeyne Westerling
Comments: 46
Kudos: 157





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I should be navigating the Westerosi Express with Jon, Sam, Sansa, Gilly and little Sam and I promise to get back there in short order. But this idea hit me and I had so much fun with the first chapter that I plan two more....the dress rehearsal from hell and the Christmas Eve performance where things may get a little too real for comfort. Hope you enjoy!

“All right, Starklings! Let’s come to order.” Catelyn Stark’s refined tones rang through the large dining room at Winterfell. That command, coupled with a sharp rap of her knuckles on the long English Oak table, garnered the attention of both her children and her husband. 

Catelyn looked over her readers, perched low on her nose, at the five members of her family who were scattered around the table. She cleared her throat and opened her worn leather folder, the very same portfolio that had seen her through the planning and execution of countless charitable events through the years. 

“Gods, just shoot me and put me out of my misery!” Catelyn’s eyes swerved directly to her youngest daughter. “Arya Stark! Is that any way to talk?” 

Arya slunk a bit lower in her cushion chair. “Sorry, Mum, but everyone in this family knows nothing good is in store when you pull out the ole’ folio.” 

Catelyn tapped her polished nails on the table surface in a rhythm that sounded suspiciously like _Jingle Bells_. “Well, to put your mind at ease, daughter, this event will require you to neither purchase, nor wear, a dress.” 

Robb nudged his little sister. “Things are lookin’ up already, Munchkin.” 

“Mother, can we please proceed. I have to log on in 30 minutes for the next level of Direwolves and Dragons or I will be ousted from the game and I am on the 15th level.” This complaint was from Bran, Catelyn’s middle son who looked at her with the single-minded focus of a messenger raven. 

Catelyn’s youngest, Rickon, chimed in. “Same for me, Mum. I’ve got hockey practice tonight!” 

Robb cleared his throat, running his hand through his short auburn curls. “And, Mum, as much as I love being with you and the family, I have to get to the store for Jeyne. She is making a gingerbread house with the girls and needs some extra icing. If I don’t get home with it, there will be holy hells to pay.”

Catelyn glared at her oldest, this time supported by a stern cough from the other end of the table. Ned spoke up. “Did your mother and I raise you in a barn, Robb Stark?”

“Nuhhhhh! Nuhhhhh!” The realistic sound of twin goats bleating came in response from both Arya and Rickon. Bran was shaking in silent laughter and even Robb had to bite his lip to keep from chuckling out loud. Ned stood, slamming both hands on the table. “That is enough out of all of you! Your mother has called us all here for what I have to believe is a very important reason. You will sit here long enough to hear her out. Do I make myself clear?” 

“Yes, sir.” Four pairs of Stark eyes guiltily turned back toward their mother. Catelyn pushed her readers up and nodded primly. “Thank you, dear.” 

Catelyn pulled a colorful flyer from the folder. “As you know, the Septas of St. Brendyn’s Cathedral are hosting the community Nativity pageant scheduled for Christmas Eve this year....”

A sardonic mutter: “Did I know that? I don’t think I knew that,...OW!” this from Arya who began sotto voiced and ended with a loud cry of pain as Robb landed a hard kick from under the table which connected directly to her shin.   
Catelyn closed her eyes and prayed for strength. If only Sansa were here!

“Mrs. Manderly was to chair the pageant this year, but unfortunately, she has been hospitalized with what her husband believes is a heart attack. She will be unable to continue and since Christmas Eve is less than two weeks away, the Septas called me to ask if I would take over direction of the pageant.”

This time it was Ned who groaned. “Cat, surely you didn’t agree? That pageant is a massive undertaking and it isn’t like you aren’t already overloaded planning a Christmas dinner for fifty people!” 

Cat crossed her arms. “Et tu, Brute?” she spat at her husband who had the grace to look down at his lap. “The committee understands the time constraints and it appears that while Mrs. Manderly has spent some rather extravagant sums on the set,” Catelyn sighed and looked around the table, “she has done absolutely nothing about casting the pageant nor costuming same.” 

Robb groaned. “Mum, I love you, but I’m with Dad on this one. You have really bitten off more than you can chew this time.”

Catelyn pointed her planning pencil at her oldest. “Robb Stark! I am surprised at you! Why, just the other day, I heard you and Jeyne talking about how you were looking forward to watching Lyarra and Minisa at the pageant this year, that they were now both just old enough to really absorb the spectacle and the meaning. Would you actually let the Christmas Pageant go down in flames this year just because poor Hildreth Manderly couldn’t get her act together?”

Arya perked up as if to retort, _Sure, why not?_ , but thinking better of it, she slunk back down again. No one else responded until Ned, pinching his nose between his thumb and index finger, replied. “So, what do you need us to do, Lady Cat?” 

Catelyn beamed. She had them all right where she wanted them. “First things first. We have to cast the pageant.” She opened her portfolio to the legal pad inside, then looked up with a conspiratorial smile. “The Septas approached me not only because they thought I could actually manage to organize the pageant on short notice, but because we Starks have such a large family and group of close friends who are almost like family that they thought I could pull together our cast from among us all and save time that we simply don’t have at this point.” 

An outraged chorus of “Mum, Mom, Mother, and Cat!” responded. Cat sighed. It was time to pull out the big guns. Her voice quavered and tears shone in her blue eyes, glimmering off her readers. She spoke quietly, “You know, I haven’t ever told anyone this, but I have always wished that my daughter would one day be asked to portray Mary in the Christmas pageant. And no,” she looked pointedly at Arya, “I don’t expect _you_ to play the Mother of Jesus.” Arya clunked her forehead on the table in relief. “I have already asked Sansa. After all, she is “great with child” as the Scriptures say, and who else better to play the Madonna?”

Robb nodded. “Sansa would love it, I am sure. But Mom, the rest of us, all gussied up in bath robes and towels? We will be the laughing stock of Winter’s Town.”   
  
“Now, listen here, Robb Stark. Your brother-in-law has been burning the candle at both ends to build a Bethlehem set that I can guarantee you will most assuredly rival anything that has ever been seen in the Great Symphony Hall in King’s Landing. If you agree to help out, I can promise you that you will not be embarrassed. This has the potential to be the best Christmas pageant ever if you six will just cooperate!” 

Bran checked the clock on his phone. T minus 15 minutes and counting till the direwolves attacked Moat Cailin. “OK, Mother, what do you have in mind for me? I’ll do it.”

Catelyn smiled fondly at her middle son. “Thank you, Brandon. I was thinking that you, Robb and Theon would portray the Wise Men. I have managed to secure a camel from the zoo today and I thought you could be the one who rides in as the Three Kings process to the manger.” Bran nodded; he certainly couldn’t march in because of his wheelchair. “Yes, Mother, I can do that. Gladly. If I am on the camel’s back, I won’t have to worry about the effluents that may be emitted from the dromedary.”

“Effin’ what?” came from Rickon’s direction as Robb tried to remember if “effluents” was spelled with an “E” or an “F”. Sometime Brandon Stark was just too damn smart for his own good. 

Arya giggled. “Mum, I can’t remember much from Sunday School but I don’t think any of the Wise Guys were gingers.” Robb glared at Arya but Cat merely smiled. “That is why Robb will wear the Lawrence of Arabia type costume so that his hair will be covered. But thank you for your positive contribution to casting, Arya.”

Ned spoke up. “I am not sure we should give Theon responsibility for any gold.” Cat nodded. “Of course not. Robb will hold on to the gold and Theon will get either frankincense or myrhh.”

Arya scoffed. “Give ole Frankentheon the frankincense. That would definitely be appropriate.” 

Rickon piped up. “So what have you got in mind for me, Mum? I’d really like to be one of King Herod’s nasty killer soldiers with a big long sword. I could wrap my hockey stick up to serve if you’d like!” 

Catelyn shook her head. “No, Rickon, we will not be portraying the massacre of the babes. Our pageant will end on a positive note.” She tapped her pencil. “We _will_ need a Herod though for the scene where he meets with the Eastern Kings. I was thinking about Sam Tarly....yes, yes, he should do nicely and Gilly can coach him on his lines.” She looked back at Rickon. “I have you down as the youngest shepherd and Arya dear, you will be the shepherdess who carries in the little black sheep.” She winked at her daughter; despite her smart mouth, she loved her dearly. “Thought it might be right up your alley.” Arya nodded, licking her finger, then running it up and down, giving her mother two points. “Touche’, Mum.”

Cat bit her lip. “Do you think that Edd would play a shepherd along with Pyp? And I thought Mr. Seaworth would be a wonderful innkeeper.”

Ned nodded. “I can ask them tomorrow for you, Cat.” His wife smiled. Now the Starks were behaving like the pack that they were.

“We will need Roman soldiers, at least four, I think. If only Tormund and Grenn would agree?...” 

Arya piped up. “I’ll ask them both and I’ll tell Gendry he has to do it too if he ever wants to get to third ba.... I mean if he expects to get an invite to this year’s New Year’s party.”

Robb rescued his little sister from her _faux pas_. “Mom, if Tormund will do it, why not Brienne as well? She is tall and she loves play acting. With a helmet on, she would be absolutely terrific!” 

Catelyn enthused. “Great idea, son!” We will use the church choir as the heavenly host so that leaves only the angel Gabriel.” She considered, biting on the nub of her lucky pencil then looked up to see all of her children grinning devilishly. “What?”

Robb, Rickon, Arya and Bran shouted as one. “Satin Flowers!” Catelyn started to protest, then reconsidered. Satin did look like an angel, albeit a rather decadent one, and he certainly could emote. “I’ll call him first thing tomorrow.”

Cat looked pointedly at her husband. “I spoke to Sansa about the costumes, dear. She is thrilled to help and we all know she will do a spectacular job, even pregnant and all. While we were on the phone, she mentioned that there was really only one person who could do justice as the narrator.” Ned gulped as her meaning became clear. “No, Cat! Absolutely not! I do not like public speaking.” 

Cat rose from her seat. Bolstered by her four children pounding the table in time to their enthusiastic chorus of “Ned, Ned, Ned, Ned,” she moved to wrap her arms around her mate. “Please, Ned, for me? Your voice is perfect, you know. So deep and commanding....and Northern.”

Ned closed his eyes. He had the beginnings of a monumental headache but he had been married to Catelyn Tully long enough to know when he was beaten. He pulled his laughing wife into his lap and nodded as he planted a big kiss on her cheek. Applause and cat calls erupted from the Starklings as they took their mother’s moment of distraction to make hasty exits. Catelyn came to herself long enough to call out. “Tomorrow at 3:00 p.m. in the fellowship hall of the cathedral for costume fittings! And mind that none of you unduly aggravate your sister in her condition!” 

Catelyn smiled and turned back to her husband who was good naturedly nuzzling her neck. She sighed. It would all come together....it always did when the Starks worked together. She closed her eyes in contentment, allowing herself a few more minutes with her husband before starting dinner. As Ned began to work his way down her neck to her shoulders, Cat stretched in his lap like a true feline. Moaning his name, she turned to pull him even closer and just as he reached a critical spot on her anatomy, Cat’s eyes widened in shock and she pulled back. “Cat, whatsa’ matter?”

Cat sat up straight and looked at him in horror. “Oh, gods, Ned, I forgot the most important part!”   
Ned chuckled. “Catelyn Tully _forgot_ something?”   
Cat nodded mutely. Ned took pity on her. “What did you forget, baby?” 

Cat whispered. “Joseph. Who is going to play Joseph?”

Ned thought a long moment, then chuckled. “There is only one person in our family who can play the earthly father of Jesus.” 

“Tell me, Ned. Who?” 

“I am surprised you haven’t already thought of it, Wife. You need someone young, handsome, muscular, built like a hard working carpenter.” 

Cat mused to herself. “And yet, someone who can portray the range of emotions Joseph would have felt, knowing his wife was having a child that wasn’t his.”

Ned smiled. “And who do we know that is good looking, built like an Adonis, and the most moody of us all.” 

Cat’s eyes sparkled with sudden understanding. “Yes, he would be perfect. Especially acting opposite Sansa.” 

Ned nodded, kissed his wife once more on the cheek, and patted his rumbling stomach sending a clear message. It was suppertime. Cat hopped from his lap and moved toward the kitchen. She stopped in the doorway.

“But how can I convince Jon to do it. He is so shy and quiet.”

Ned joined his wife and took advantage of the mistletoe dangling above to sneak one more kiss.   
“Cat, dear, you _must_ learn to delegate. Let his wife persuade him. Jon will do _anything_ Sansa asks of him.”


	2. Dress Rehearsal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catelyn continues to deal with one crisis after another as the pageant moves toward dress rehearsal. Sansa persuades Jon to introduce some "color" into his life. Generally just a lot of Stark hijinks moving us toward Christmas Eve and the actual pageant performance.

  
_December 22, 2020 - Two days before the Pageant_

Catelyn Stark watched as the truck from Winter’s Town Zoological Garden which carried the camel donated for the pageant pulled into the back parking lot of St. Brendyn’s Cathedral. Rickon and Arya stood beside her. A loud noise sounded from within the truck as the engine died down and two men dressed in coveralls that identified them as zoo employees jumped out of the truck. The driver strode over to Catelyn with a lopsided grin on his perfectly round face. “G’day, Mum. Animal for the Jesus play right in the truck.” 

Catelyn glanced at his name tag as she pointed toward the far back of the lot. “Thank you, Mr. Mord. We have prepared a fenced in area right over there for Clyde.” Director Mormont had told her that he would send the zoo’s oldest and most docile camel. Mord guffawed as he shot a long trail of spit perilously close to where Catelyn was standing. 

“No Clyde, Mum. Hazel.” 

Catelyn looked at her son and daughter. Both shrugged. This wasn’t their prom and they were at the church early for dress rehearsal only because Catelyn had promised pizza for the entire cast and crew if they came at least two hours before practice started. It was now just shy of three hours before rehearsal began.

Catelyn cleared her throat and looked down at her notes. “Hmmm, I could have sworn Director Mormont said his name was Clyde. But no matter. I am sure Hazel will do just fine. Can we have a look?”

Mord nodded vigorously, reminding Catelyn of the Santa bobblehead doll she had seen just last week at the novelty store when she had been shopping for Satin’s angel wings. 

“Hazel a fine girl. Big girl. You’ll like.”

Mord whistled to his companion who was still standing by the truck. The man opened the back of the truck and taking a long stick began poking at the animal inside. “Hey!” Arya yelled as she took off at a run toward the truck. “Don’t do that! That’s mean!”  
  
Mord grumbled and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Not mean. Hazel not move unless she get the stick. Gotta poke her to get her out of the truck.”   
Catelyn took off after Arya. While proud of Arya’s tendency to defend the weak, she couldn’t afford to have her tick off Mord and his companion so much that they just packed up the as yet unseen Hazel and drove right back to the zoo. 

By the time Catelyn reached the truck, Arya had grabbed the stick from Mord’s assistant and was threatening him with it. “Arya Lyanna! Put that stick down right now!” 

Arya turned to her mother, brown eyes stormy. “Mum! He was hurting that poor animal!”

Mord ambled up beside them and proceeded to expectorate another impressive stream of fluids before speaking. “Hazel not hurt. Her skin really tough.” 

Arya glared at the monosyllabic Mord. “We’ll see about that!” Dropping the stick she proceeded to climb up the side of the truck, using the slats as footholds. Just as Arya reached the canvas cover that was covering the top part of the truck and which was hiding Clyde - no - Hazel from full view, Rickon nudged his mother. “Mom. I’ve been thinkin’ about that truck.”

Catelyn was desperately hoping right at that moment that Arya wouldn’t fall from said truck and break her neck. “Not now, Rickon. We have a situation here.” 

“But Mom, I think...”

“Rickon, not now!”

“Mom, I really think you should pay attention to me.” 

Catelyn turned on her heel and glared at her youngest. “Well, out with it! What is so important that it can’t wait until I can get Arya and Hazel on terra firma?”

Rickon looked at the truck and pointed to where Arya was perched. “Doesn’t it seem like a camel would need a bit more head room? I thought they were kinda tall. I mean, not like giraffe tall or anythin’, but is that truck high enough?”

Catelyn turned back to look at the truck with dawning dread at the exact same instant that Arya, who had been peering down into the truck, started snickering, then giggling, then laughing so hard that Catelyn was certain she was suffering some sort of mental breakdown. 

Catelyn cast a baleful look up at her daughter. “What is so funny?” Catelyn’s no-nonsense tone just set Arya off again. She held on to the last slat and just let her laughter erupt. Arya’s laughter was so infectious that Rickon, Mord, and even the threatened prod poker began chuckling too. 

“Arya Stark, I need you to talk to me right now. What in seven hells is so funny?” _Normally, Catelyn would have said a quick prayer of contrition for cursing on church property, but right now God was just going to have to overlook it._

Arya wiped her eyes and with stomach still heaving, she began pushing the canvas cover off to reveal the interior of the truck. Catelyn moved closer. She wasn’t seeing anything that came close to resembling a camel. There...over in the corner, she did see something. She peered right inside the dim interior of the truck only to be greeted by a giant maw opening in a huge brownish gray face. Cat staggered from the truck and turned to see the unflappable Mord standing calmly with both hands in the bib of his overalls. “See. Hazel. Great girl!”

**********************

Catelyn ended her conversation with Director Mormont just moments before the dress rehearsal was supposed to start. Clyde was finally on his way to St. Brendyn’s and Mormont assured her that the camel would make an appearance before the Wise Men actually had need of him. Jeor had responded to her panicked call and had hung up only to call her back after conducting an investigation as to how a hippopotamus ended up in the truck rather than the promised dromedary. He had apologized profusely explaining that for some strange reason his assistant had misconstrued his instructions, resulting in said secretary ordering the delivery of Hazel, a two year old female hippo, rather than the geriatric Clyde.

“So sorry, Mrs. Stark! I tell you, this younger generation is absolutely godless, totally heathen they are. When I confronted Rosie about the mistake she said that she thought Hazel was needed as a prop for the song, “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas”. Can you imagine?”

Catelyn sighed. “Right now, Jeor, I could believe just about anything. Thank you so much for your efforts. I can assure you that Ned and I won’t forget this when the zoo has its annual fundraising drive in the spring.”

“No trouble at all, Cat. The wife and I can’t wait to see the Christmas program. Bringin’ the whole family, even our n’er do well son, Jorah, and his girlfriend, Dany. They’re visiting from Essos for the holidays. Bet this pageant’s gonna be a real humdinger!” 

Catelyn closed her eyes, desperately wishing that she could sail away with Calgon like in the commercial. “I feel sure it will, Jeor. Thanks again and we’ll see you at the program.”

Catelyn laid her cell phone down on the table and rolled her shoulders trying to ease the tension from her neck. She had picked a table in the fellowship hall which was furthest from the kitchen, not only so she could converse with Director Mormont with some measure of privacy, but also because from that vantage point, she could survey the overall scene and identify any potential problems before the dress rehearsal actually began.

While she had been negotiating the _“hippo for camel”_ swap, the Septas had handled feeding the cast and crew. Sansa, rock star that she was, had patted her on the shoulder and assured her, “Mama, I have this under control.” Her daughter had then assumed responsibility for making sure everyone was properly costumed and ready for rehearsal. From afar, Catelyn watched Sansa negotiate the distribution of gifts to the Wise Men, making sure that Theon was kept far from the gold bar donated by the Great Northern Bank & Trust Company for the performance. Sansa had heaped such lavish praise upon Satin and his angelic appearance that Catelyn thought Flowers wouldn’t need the wired harness to ascend to the heavens; he was already floating among the clouds buoyed by her daughter’s effusive compliments. Davos was his usual folksey self, joking with Sansa that he had always wanted to own a Holiday Inn and be able to flash the _No Vacancy_ sign off and on all night long. Sansa had merely kissed Jon’s surrogate father on his grizzled cheek and straightened his costume for him.

  
Tormund was sporting a black eye which, hopefully, the helmet Sansa had placed over his ginger mane would somewhat cover. Giantsbane, as wild as a mountain goat and twice as uncouth, had tried to pinch Brienne’s ass under the short skirt she wore as part of her costume and she had promptly decked him. While Edd were trying to find ice for the swelling, Tormund was bragging to everyone in hearing range about being K. O.d by the woman of his dreams. Catelyn sighed; Robb had been on point that Brienne would cut a fine figure as a Roman soldier, but he had also overlooked the fact that Tormund carried an Olympic size torch for Ms. Tarth while she, in turn, could scarcely tolerate the big man. Catelyn noticed that in the midst of all the chaos, Sansa pulled Gendry and Grenn aside and she could just imagine that Sansa was charging the two young men with keeping distance between Tormund and Brienne during the program. 

Earlier, the 3 Wise Guys, as Arya had dubbed them, had been teasing poor Sam who was unsuccessfully trying to figure out how to maneuver in his elaborate Herod costume. Catelyn made a note to ask Sansa if she could sew a loop into Sam’s costume to help hold his long train off the floor as he walked, but then smiled when she saw Sansa address the problem directly with her ever-present needle and thread, leaving Sam very obviously relieved. 

Along with the other shepherds, Arya and Rickon were duly costumed and behaving more or less appropriately when somehow her two problem children discovered that their shepherd’s crooks made ideal quarterstaves and within minutes they were assaulting each other in earnest. This time Sansa wisely stood aside and let Robb and Theon break them up. After separating both from their weapons Sansa sat them down and gave them her best version of a Catelyn Stark tongue thrashing. It must have been effective because both appeared sufficiently rebuked and had been on unusually good behavior since. 

Five minutes ago, Sansa had put out the call that everyone was to be in their places in fifteen. She had then turned to look at her mother with a triumphant, but very sweet, smile and Catelyn was struck, as she often was at odd moments, by how truly special her oldest daughter was.   
Not only had she managed their friends and family members with all of their oddities and quirks and, with the possible exception of Arya and Rickon, she had done it with exceptional kindness and diplomacy. No wonder everyone who met her loved her. 

Catelyn took a moment to admire Sansa’s clothing, fashioned by her daughter’s own talented hands. The undergarment was floor length, a soft gray material that gave the appearance of lamb’s wool. The gown hung loose and was edged at the bottom and along the wrists with a simple dark blue brocade. The overgarment was a work of art in vivid sky blue, just a bit shorter than the gown it covered, and with bell sleeves which were edged in the same navy trim. Sansa had braided her auburn hair in a simple side braid. Her costume was completed by an ivory shawl long enough to cover her hair and to also wrap around her shoulders. Catelyn was definitely biased but she was sure that Sansa was going to make a beautiful Mary. 

Catelyn took a sip of her rapidly cooling coffee and thought back to a week ago when Sansa had dropped by the house after her routine appointment with her OBGyn. During a phone call the night before, Sansa had told Catelyn that she would ask Jon to consider playing Joseph but reminded Catelyn that Jon was “beyond busy, Mama, what with work and then building the entire set almost by himself.” 

Catelyn had clucked in sympathy. Jon was indeed a very busy young man. When Robb had balked at Ned’s wish that he join him in the firm that her husband’s grandfather had founded, choosing instead to go to law school, she had given thanks to all the Seven when Jon had shown a real interest in architecture. Ned had taken Jon on as an intern during his second year in college and Jon had thrived under Ned’s tutelage. When Jon returned to Winterfell with diploma in hand, he had told Ned he would gladly work as an architect, but he also wanted to build things with his own two hands, not just plan them on paper. So Jon had started his own construction company which specialized in custom homes and the occasional municipal building. Most recently the entire Stark clan had attended the ribbon cutting for Jon’s latest project - Winterfell Magnet School, the elementary school where Robb’s twin daughters attended.

When Hildreth Manderly had seen Catelyn in the supermarket and told her that Jon had agreed to oversee the construction of the nativity set, Cat knew that the stage would be spectacular. That was one reason why she had agreed to take over when Hildreth became ill because she knew that Jon would be certain to create a magical Bethlehem and she could concentrate on the casting and the production itself without worrying about the quality of the set. 

Sansa had dropped by the house with good news; the baby was doing well and was on schedule to make an appearance in early February. Catelyn had quickly dried her hands on the dish towel and wrapped her arms around her daughter’s adorably rounding body for a quick hug. “Sweetheart, when are you going to tell us what you are having?” 

Sansa’s blue eyes had sparkled as she primly responded. “I am fairly certain it will be a baby, Mama.” Catelyn had shook her head and kissed her daughter’s cheek. “I need to know whether I should be knitting blue or pink booties, dear.” 

“Maybe it will be one of each.” Catelyn nearly dropped the dish she had picked up to dry. “Are you serious, Sansa? You are expecting twins.” Sansa had giggled. “No, Mama! It’s just I am beginning to feel as if I have an entire football team inside my belly.” 

Catelyn huffed. “Nonsense! You are exactly the perfect size for seven, almost eight months. So, is the baby’s gender going to be a secret then?” 

Sansa nodded as she sipped on the glass of lemon water that her mother had handed her. “Jon wants to keep it private, just between us, for now. And really, it won’t matter because the decor for the baby’s room will be fine for either a boy or a girl.” 

Catelyn nodded. Jon had taken it upon himself to build the nursery furniture in his workshop. The cradle was complete, the dresser was finished and just needed to be varnished, and the crib was underway. Jon had plans to construct built-in bookcases and toy cubbies in the room as well. Jon and Sansa had chosen a woodland theme featuring forest creatures with a heavy emphasis upon wolves, a good many of whom bore a great resemblance to Jon’s wolf hybrid, Ghost.

Catelyn sat down at the table facing her daughter. “So.... did you ask Jon about the play?”

Sansa grinned. “Yes, he agreed to be Joseph.”

Catelyn leaned back in her chair and sighed in relief. “Thank the Seven! However did you convince him?”

Sansa shrugged. “I just reminded Jon that the best way to make sure I was safe on stage was for him to be right there with me. He agreed almost immediately!” 

Catelyn tapped the side of her forehead. “That was good thinking, Sweetheart. Jon would do anything to keep you and the baby safe. And, really, with the set being so elaborate with so many moving pieces, I actually will feel a lot better that he will be right there beside you on stage.”

Sansa rose from her chair and sat her glass by the sink. “Me too, Mama! Now, I need to get back home so I can finish my costume and start on Jon’s. I have some really good ideas for how I want to outfit him. I can promise you, he will be the most gorgeous Joseph that St. Brendyn’s has ever seen.”

*******************

Catelyn ended her reflections on the past and hurriedly checked her watch. She gave a relieved sigh. She still had a few minutes before she needed to get to her place at the front of the sanctuary in order to start the rehearsal. Her best friends, Beth Umber and Elaine Karstark, were assigned back stage duties and would keep things in order on that end. 

She picked up her notebook and made to throw away her coffee cup when she heard Sansa’s voice raise. She glanced over to where her daughter stood, tapping her foot impatiently. “Jon, we are needed on set in just a few minutes. Come on out so I can make any last minute adjustments to your costume.” 

“Sans, I can’t wear this!”

“Why not?” Sansa’s arms were crossed and it was obvious to Catelyn that her daughter was agitated. “If there are alterations needed, I can do them quickly but you need to come out here so I can see the problem.”   
  
A muttered response came from behind the curtain. “The problem is...I look ridiculous!”

“No!” Catelyn breathed. _Never upset a pregnant woman who is about to go on stage as the Mother of God!_

Catelyn glanced at Sansa. As she feared, her daughter appeared ready to cry. “You don’t like it? What is _wrong_ with your costume?” 

A noise came from behind the makeshift screen, then Jon reluctantly shuffled out. Catelyn moved closer. At first glance she could see nothing wrong with her son-in-law’s costume. Jon wore a darker shade of gray than Sansa, the tunic reaching to his ankles while his feet were encased in sandals. Like Sansa’s costume, Jon’s appeared made from soft lamb’s wool as well. Unlike Sansa, Jon’s tunic had a belt which was tied and hung low over his slim hips, gathering the garment in for a fitted look. His dark curls were loose; instead of a head covering, he wore a thin piece of leather which ran across his forehead and was tied at the back of his head. The tunic’s sleeves were short and left Jon’s strong forearms on full display. He carried a thick walking stick in one hand and a second garment draped over his shoulder. 

Sansa surveyed her husband with a critical eye, moving in a circle around him as he stood, shuffling from one foot to the other. “Everything looks really good. I don’t see a problem!”

Jon stubbornly shook his head. “This!” He pulled the over garment off his shoulder and thrust it toward his wife as if he could not bear to carry it one moment longer.

“Put it on.” Sansa firmly directed. Jon shook his head in stubborn response. Sansa’s voice softened as she stepped closer to Jon. “Please, for _me_.”

Jon swallowed hard and stepped back. “Don’t. Don’t give me _that_ look. You know I can’t handle _that_ look.” 

Sansa took the garment from Jon’s hand and slid his right arm into one long sleeve then moved behind him to arrange the material along his back and finished by sliding his left arm into the second sleeve, all while speaking in the type of soothing tone one might employ to quiet a skittish animal. “It’s so pretty, Jon. It will look _so_ good on you. Please, please, wear it for me.” 

Jon dropped his head, clearly defeated, even as he muttered his complaint. “But it’s got so many colors and they are all so bright, Sans.” He finished with an explosive “And the stripes aren’t even straight. They _zig zag!_ ”

Sansa smoothed the admittedly dazzling material over her husband’s chest and moved close as she drew her hand along his bearded cheek. “It is unique. Different. Special. Just like you.”

Catelyn recognized when a potential problem had been defused. Sansa had the matter, as well as Jon, well in hand and she needed to get to the sanctuary to start the dress rehearsal. 

*******************  
Four hours later, Catelyn said good night to the sanctuary custodian as she tiredly exited the church. She was the last one to leave. All in all, the dress rehearsal had gone fairly well although there were some significant glitches. Clyde had arrived and had been spectacularly uncooperative although Catelyn couldn’t really blame him. Bran had proven to be a bit of a camel whisperer and finally managed to get him down the aisle although by the time the Three Wise Guys had processed down to the stage with their entire entourage of servants and packages, Theon and Robb were shaking with barely contained laughter. King Herod had completely forgotten his lines and ended up pointing to the star and asking the Wise Men why it was hanging over the little town of Nazareth! Which totally ruined Theon and Robb’s composure and left them holding their sides from laughter. 

Then, of course, Arya had pouted when the shepherds had to herd the sheep in using their shepherd’s crooks, her policy against prodding animals already well known to her mother. Nevertheless, when she took up the one black sheep in a protective caress, Arya smiled so beautifully that Catelyn forgave her daughter all her eccentricities. 

Then there were the Roman soldiers. Grenn and Gendry were terrific while Tormund and Brienne were suitably terrifying even though Catelyn suspected that Brienne’s glowers were directed more at her red-headed companion than at the populace of ancient Israel. 

The brightest spot during rehearsal had definitely been Sansa and her reluctant Joseph. To start their journey to Bethlehem, Jon had placed Sansa on the donkey’s back so tenderly and carefully that one of the seven septas sitting immediately behind Catelyn had sighed audibly. Since Ned had a lengthy passage of narration during the holy couple’s journey, Catelyn had encouraged Sansa to think of ways the trip could be visually memorable to the audience. She was touched when the couple stopped midway down the aisle and _“Joseph”_ bent to the ground, rising to present his lovely wife with some wildflowers that he had plucked along the way. The second septa sitting behind Catelyn whispered to her sighing sister, “Best looking Joseph ever!” 

Catelyn’s only concern was the absence of Baby Jesus at the dress rehearsal. It was the tradition that the orphanage at St. Brendyn’s provided a baby to portray the Holy Child. Septa Mordane assured Cat that the baby selected for this year’s Nativity was perfect, being only three weeks old. He had been left at the orphanage when his mother died of an overdose and his father took off, wanting nothing to do with the little one. Mordane assured Catelyn the baby would be ready for the actual program but added that, “Due to the babe’s young age, the Septa in charge of the nursery has chosen to keep him away from the rehearsal tonight in order to limit his exposure to germs, noise and general mayhem.” 

Sansa had overheard the conversation. “Septa Mordane, would it be ok if Jon and I came to visit the baby tomorrow? Just to get acquainted with him and let him get used to us before the actual program?” Mordane smiled. “Yes, Sansa, if you like. I think that would be a wonderful idea.” 

*********************  
Cat hit the remote button on her key fob and slid into her car, leaning against the head rest. She was bone weary and tomorrow was devoted to the last minute planning for her annual Christmas Day dinner. While she was fervently praying that the pageant would be a success, one way or another, Catelyn was just ready for it to be over. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I don't read many stories that feature Mord, Tyrion's jailer from the Vale. I thought he might be interesting to introduce as the animal warden for Hazel, the misdirected hippopotamus. Jon and Sansa are introduced here but they will be featured heavily in the next chapter which will be about the actual pageant on Christmas Eve as well as the Stark Christmas Day Dinner. I plan an epilogue as well. Finally, I couldn't resist a reference to the colorful zig zag striped costume Sansa makes for Jon; if any of you have seen the recent Star Force spoof you will know what provided that particular bit of inspiration!


	3. True Meaning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Sansa meet Baby Jesus. We experience the Christmas pageant through Catelyn's perspective. Jon and Sansa have a good reason to skip the punch and cookies afterwards.  
> Dany and Jorah make an appearance in the audience. In this story Dany is not a heroine but she also isn't a villain, just a little silly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I worked really hard to get this out on Christmas Eve because that is when the Stark Christmas pageant takes place. This chapter took on a life of its own as I realized that I could relive my own fond memories of the Christmas pageants of my past through this little story. While a church Christmas pageant likely isn't on the calendar for most of us this year, I hope that this little production put on paper in some detail will help you relive your own memories of past Christmas programs. Of course, at the center of all the drama, pageantry, and (some) Stark hijinks, there is the baby and his earthly parents. Merry Christmas!  
> Author's Note: I have made some revisions to this chapter, most particularly, as to the name of Robb's daughter. In Chapter Two, I identified her as Lyarra which according to canon is the name of Ned's mother. In my first version of this chapter, however, I called her Lyanna which is incorrect because Robb and Jeyne named their daughters Minisa (Catelyn's mother's name) and Lyarra (Ned's mother's name). This correction is necessary because of events which will become obvious in the epilogue.

_December 23 - One Day Before the Pageant_

Jon looked out his kitchen window at the snow falling softly in his back yard. He hastily swallowed the last bit of cereal remaining in his bowl and then tipped the bowl up to finish the milk inside for good measure. He looked down to find Ghost sitting patiently at his side, no doubt hoping for a scrap to be thrown his way. Jon opened the cabinet where the dog treats were stored and dropped one into his appreciative pup’s mouth. He bent and ran his fingers through his pet’s soft white fur. “Missed you too, boy. Things have been a little crazy around here what with work and the pageant and getting everything ready to greet your new buddy in a month or so. Sorry if you’ve gotten the short end of the attention stick during all this.” 

“Jon! Are you ready?” Ghost’s tail started thumping against the hardwood floor as Jon turned to face the door to the family room, leaning back against the counter. His wife flew into the bright yellow kitchen; she looked adorable in denim overalls and a red plaid shirt with her hair pulled back into a messy pony tail. Sansa’s baby bump was on full display and Jon thought his heart would burst from happiness and love as he watched her flit around the kitchen.

“Now, I want to stop off first at the Craft Market and pick up Dad and Robb’s gifts. Then we should stop by the grocery store for the ingredients I need for the caramel cake I am baking for Christmas Dinner and we absolutely _have_ to make it to the orphanage by 11:00 because the Septa said that will be the ideal time for the baby to have visitors. Right before his feeding and naptime.” Sansa stopped and looked at Jon who was leaning against the cabinet, arms folded and with a gleam in his eye. “What?” 

Jon opened his arms and Sansa entered his sure embrace just like a ship being towed inexorably into harbor. “I was just thinkin’ about how cute you are, Sansa Snow, and how much I love you,” he whispered into the top of her head, then dropping his head to press a slow, deep kiss on her brow, “and also about how very much I want to take you back to bed and keep you there all day long.”

Sansa pulled back to look her husband in the eyes and smiled as she pecked him on his warm lips, then pulled from his embrace. “I love you too, sweetheart. But we _really_ have to be going.”   
She wrapped a bright green shawl around her neck before tugging on her jacket, then pulled a matching cap over her copper hair and opened the door, reminding Jon of nothing so much as an energetic Ghost when he wanted to go outside and play. Jon chuckled as he pulled on his coat. After picking up his keys from the counter, he followed his excited wife out the door. 

************************

Sansa and Jon sat side by side in Septa Anisa’s office on the first floor of St. Brendyn’s Home for Orphans and the Abandoned. Jon looked over at Sansa; she was practically jumping up and down in her seat. Jon shook his head; while he was also becoming more and more excited about having their own child, Sansa practically levitated any time she was within cooing distance of a baby. That was nothing new though. She had been drawn to children as long as Jon had known her. It was no wonder that she had chosen pediatric medicine as a career; after an extended maternity leave, Sansa planned to return to her job as the physician in charge of the pediatric oncology unit at the local children’s hospital. It was a hard, often heartbreaking, job and Sansa often came home emotionally drained, but she absolutely thrived on providing the best care for her small patients. 

In an attempt to calm his wife, Jon reached over and took Sansa’s hand in his, rubbing his calloused fingers over her much softer ones. At his touch, Sansa stopped bouncing her leg in quick up and down jerks, a sure tell that she was nervous. She smiled apologetically. “I know I am acting silly, Jon, but I am just so excited to meet this little fellow.” 

Jon reached over and planted a soft kiss on her nose. “Aye, I know. You can’t help yourself.”

Just then the door opened and one of the novitiates entered with a small bundle in her arms. “Mr. and Mrs. Snow?” Sansa and Jon nodded in sync. The young woman smiled and bent to lay her tiny burden in Sansa’s arms. “Here is your baby Jesus.” She moved quietly out of the room, leaving Sansa and Jon alone with the otherwise unnamed infant. 

Sansa gasped as her arms reflexively moved to enfold the babe. She gently moved the blanket to reveal a headful of dark curls and a pair of bright blue eyes that were almost identical to her own. “Jon”, she whispered, “Look at him!” Jon leaned over, intending to toss out some throwaway line about how _this_ baby looked just like every other one he had ever seen. But his words caught in his throat when he glanced down at the infant. The wee lad was looking back at him with a knowing expression as if to say, _So. You’re finally here. It’s about time._

Jon watched Sansa cradle the baby. He instinctively stood and leaned over his wife’s chair, enveloping both her and the infant in his arms. He rested his cheek against her head and the young couple remained that way for a long moment until Sansa stirred and turned her head to glance up at her husband. Her eyes met his in a wordless dialogue and then, as one, they both turned their undivided attention back to the child.

*************************** 

_Christmas Eve - the Pageant_

Catelyn Stark smoothed down the folds of her dark dress, gave a light press of hand to her hair, and entered the sanctuary from the side. The house lights were already dimmed as it was just moments before the pageant was to begin. Although she couldn’t see beyond the first few pews, she knew that it was standing room only. Catelyn moved to her place on the front row and sat down. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap and sent up a quick prayer to all the saints that everything would go smoothly. She opened her eyes in time to see Ned enter and take his place at the podium, adjusting the mike to suit him before glancing her way and giving her one of his patented, _Don’t worry, Cat, it will be all right_ , smiles. She smiled back and nodded back, proud of her handsome husband who was decked out in dark pants, a snowy white button down, and his best red Christmas sweater. 

The spotlight came up on Ned as the soft refrains of “Come Oh Come Immanuel” began playing. 

Catelyn closed her eyes and nodded to herself. _Here we go...._

Ned cleared his throat and began to speak.   
_...The angel Gabriel was sent from God unto a city of Galilee, named Nazareth._  
 _To a virgin espoused to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David and the virgin’s name was Mary._

The lights came up on the side stage to reveal Mary sitting at a table in a humble home. Sansa had determined that her pregnant tummy could effectively be hidden in the early scenes of the pageant if she just remained seated. Catelyn had been holding her breath, but she let it out slowly as she realized that the congregation was already wrapped up in the display of this old familiar story. Sansa, of course, was breathtaking. 

The angel Gabriel suddenly appeared on the stage with Mary. Jon had worked out a clever hidden door in the stage which allowed Satin to slide into the scene as if he had just miraculously appeared from nowhere. Catelyn felt a shiver of satisfaction as she heard murmurs of amazement waft behind her. 

Satin could be a drama queen, but he was unquestionably talented and his delivery of the familiar message to Mary was perfect. _Fear not, Mary, for you have found favour with God. Behold, you shall conceive and bring forth a son, and you shall call his name, JESUS._

Sansa and Satin performed the rest of the scene flawlessly. “So far, so good.” Catelyn murmured.

The next scene took place at the community well in the village of Nazareth. Mary had just returned from a lengthy visit with Elizabeth, coming home only after her older cousin had given birth. The scene portrayed her first meeting with Joseph upon her return. Jon appeared on the far side of the stage; he was dressed only in his work tunic. Catelyn knew that he and Sansa had negotiated that he would wear the colorful robe only when “traveling” and during the visit of the Wise Men. 

The scene required Jon to display first joy upon seeing his espoused for the first time in months, then shift to the feelings of confusion that any young man would feel upon seeing a now visibly pregnant woman. Jon was suitably solemn while Sansa was heartbreaking as she reached for her _almost_ husband only to have Joseph turn away from her, stalking back to his own home to deal with his emotions.

Moments later, Joseph appeared in his carpentry shop. The shop was a work of art, containing implements that looked as if they would definitely have been found in a biblical carpenter’s hands. Jon held a plane in his hand, smoothing out a wooden harness for oxen. Catelyn was so happy that her son-in-law had paid such attention to detail because it certainly enhanced the experience of viewing this familiar old story. 

Ned spoke again. _Now Joseph was a just man and was not willing to make Mary a public example, so he was inclined to put her away privately._

The audience gasped again when Gabriel once again appeared out of thin air and addressed Joseph. Catelyn smiled. Satin was clearly enjoying literally popping out of thin air and was milking the role of God’s messenger for all it was worth.

Gabriel spoke with authority: _“Joseph, fear not to take Mary thy wife for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Ghost. And she shall bring forth a son, and thou shalt call his name JESUS,_  
 _for he shall save His people from their sins.”_

The pageant was now in full swing. Joseph appeared in front of Mary’s home leading a donkey. Mary appeared and after Joseph kissed her forehead _(most certainly Jon’s contribution to the authenticity of the scene)_ , he carefully lifted his young wife onto the donkey’s back. Slowly, the young couple began moving away from Nazareth and as they moved, suddenly, a star appeared and actually moved with them, its light gradually becoming more and more brilliant as they traveled across the stage. 

_"_ Now, how did they do that?", Catelyn heard one of the septas sitting behind her ask. _Beats me,_ thought Catelyn, _but I owe my son-in-law big time._

Ned cleared his throat and told the audience about the proclamation from Caesar Augustus that was sending Joseph and his wife to the city of his birth, Bethlehem, the City of David. 

Jon and Sansa had disappeared to one side of the stage and the choir began softly singing, _**Oh, Little Town of Bethlehem**_ , while Ned finished his narration. Catelyn had already seen Jon’s plans for situating the choir but seeing it during the actual production caused her to gasp herself. Jon had constructed a sturdy platform of varying levels in front of a dark backdrop; the platform stretched across the entire stage and the choir members were scattered across it. Each choir member had small white LED lights sewn right into their costume so that when they appeared each singer became a multitude of tiny stars filling up the night sky. The effect was breathtaking. 

  
The audience had just calmed down from reacting to the “star filled” sky when they again began buzzing as the revolving stages on both sides of the set turned, the first revealing an inn set in the middle of a street scene while the other revealed the throne room of King Herod. As the choir continued singing, Joseph and Mary reentered the sanctuary from the back. They proceeded slowly down the middle aisle of the sanctuary, moving past the audience row by row. Again, halfway down the aisle, Jon stopped and “plucked” the wildflowers. Catelyn knew that Jon’s apprentice, Olly was parked in the aisle seat and that he had handed the flowers to Jon when needed. Nevertheless, the action brought another sigh, this one much louder as it collectively came not just from the septas, but from the entire female audience. 

As Mary and Joseph continued on their journey, the town of Bethlehem came into focus. A dozen or so “extras” in costume moved through the streets, all desperate to fulfill their census obligations before nightfall. Davos was posed in front of _his_ inn, a prominent “No Vacancy” sign posted in the window. He was vigorously sweeping the stoop as he shouted out greetings to all passersby. Occasionally someone would approach with a bag of money, giving the innkeeper the opportunity to boom out his lines, “No Vacancy tonight. All rooms are full. No Vacancy tonight.” 

Then there were the Roman soldiers, four abreast, shoving citizens out of their way. Occasionally, one of them would also boom out a warning, “Register today. Beware to those who ignore the census.” Catelyn noticed that Grenn and Gendry had made the deliberate point of positioning themselves between Tormund and Brienne. All looked suitably fearful, but it was Brienne who won the moment when she leaned toward those sitting in the front row and barked that they would be wise to “Queue up and register with the census taker before I have to come to your hovels and drag you there!” Nervous laughter and a smattering of applause followed while Tormund broke character just long enough to beam at his unrequited love’ impromptu performance. 

The stage lights darkened signaling that evening had arrived. Everyone but Davos exited the stage in small, scurrying groups. Joseph and Mary arrived in front of the small inn. As the choir softly hummed, Davos pointed out the sign to the tired couple. When Jon pointed adamantly at Sansa and her obvious condition, Davos responded imperiously, “I have no more rooms. You should have gotten here earlier if you wanted a room.” 

Catelyn could see the visible anger thrumming through Jon. Sansa had advised her mother that she had directed Jon to picture himself in the situation that Joseph found himself in and to act accordingly. When Jon dropped the donkey’s reins, strode up to Davos, and physically pushed him against the inn door, Catelyn wondered if Jon was perhaps going a bit too far. But then she heard the septas behind her tittering excitedly and she supposed that his interpretation was passing theological muster. 

Davos held both hands up in supplication. “All right, all right, I _might_ be able to find you a space in the stable.” When Jon pushed him again and then abruptly stepped away in disgust, Davos straightened his garments and muttered, “At least it will be dry and warm.” 

Joseph returned to his wife and the small donkey who were both waiting patiently for him. Mary smoothed her hand down her husband’s bearded cheek and nodded, silently telling him that he had done well finding a spot for her to rest that night. Catelyn smiled to herself: how many times had she seen Sansa settle Jon in the same manner? Jon paused, holding himself rigid for a dramatic moment and then releasing a big sigh, he led the donkey toward the stable.

The stage lights lowered again and when they came up once more, the inn scene had changed to the interior of the stable, again courtesy of Jon’s ingenious revolving device. Joseph lifted Mary off the saddle and helped her to a comfortable pile of straw. As Joseph led the donkey into an open stall, the lights revealed that a cow and several small goats were already residing in the stable. The choir began humming _**Silent Night**_ as Mary reached for Joseph with a worried look on her face. Joseph glanced around desperately as if seeking help but then his solemn gaze returned to Mary as if he recognized that they were entirely on their own. The lights darkened on the stable as Ned spoke again:

_And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered. And she brought forth her first born son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger._

The choir transitioned into singing _**Away In A Manger**_ as the lights came back up on the stable. Mary sat next to the manger holding a small bundle in her arms, Joseph hovering protectively over her. Just as the star appeared again, brightening to a meteoric brilliance just over the stable, the baby cried just once and then stopped as Mary hugged him tighter. 

“Mama, it’s a real baby!” Catelyn recognized the small voice of her granddaughter, Minisa, who was sitting across the aisle with her twin sister and her Mom. Jeyne whispered back, just loudly enough for Catelyn to hear. “Of course, Min. That’s the baby Jesus.” Catelyn’s heart seized as she realized that her granddaughters were as caught up in the magic of the Christmas story as she had been when she was their age. 

As the choir concluded with the familiar refrain, _Sleep in heavenly peace, Sleep in heavenly peace_ , the lights lowered on the stable and the brilliant star suddenly appeared in the very center of the large stage. An instrumental version of _**The First Noel** _played in the background. Ned’s Northern brogue was particularly pronounced as he recited the scriptures that Catelyn knew was his favorite part of the Christmas story:

 _And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night._ Catelyn kept her fingers crossed, hoping that all would go well with the sheep and their unruly shepherds. The shepherds were all reclining on the ground, their small flock surrounding them. Arya had somehow persuaded Jon to let the shepherds use Ghost as their sheep dog. Catelyn had feared that Ghost would terrify the sheep but, miraculously, the sheep seemed to love the big dog. 

Suddenly Satin appeared again, this time floating in mid-air, surrounded by the night sky _“stars”_. This caused yet another audible collective gasp from the audience. All four shepherds held their hands up, shielding their eyes from the luminous angel. 

_Fear not, for behold I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you. You shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger._

As Gabriel hovered over the awed shepherds, the choir broke forth with a vigorous rendition of _**Angels We Have Heard On High.**_ The shepherds rose from the ground and effectively mimed their decision to go to nearby Bethlehem to find the promised baby. 

The miraculous star reappeared over the stable. _I am really going to have to ask Jon how that star works!,_ Catelyn resolved. The shepherds appeared. Edd and Pyp led the way while Rickon and Arya brought up the rear. Catelyn revised her opinion regarding Arya’s suggestion yet again when Ghost quietly, but effectively, kept the small herd of sheep in line and moving forward. 

When they arrived at the manger, Mary was sitting next to the manger where the baby lay, his little legs just visible over the edge of the rough cradle. Joseph was standing behind her, staff at the ready, as the humble group of shepherds approached. The shepherds kneeled and bowed their heads, Arya clutching the small black sheep in her arms. Ghost suddenly made an unexpected move: _Of course he would_ , Catelyn thought to herself somewhat hysterically. _He didn’t read the script!_ The big dog inserted himself between Jon and Sansa and placing his paws on the hay bale upon which Sansa sat, he peered down into the manger, tail wagging, a huge doggy grin spread across his snout. The audience laughed out loud while little Lyarra huffed across the way. Her other granddaughter adored Uncle Jon’s dog and Cat knew that she didn’t want Ghost’s feelings to be hurt because of the laughter.

The congregation actually applauded as the lights went down again. The lump in Catelyn’s stomach was slowly dissolving; just a _few_ more scenes and they would be home free. 

As the choir softly sang **_We Three Kings_** , Ned’s impressive voice sounded out again as the lights dimmed, illumination coming only from the ever-present star hovering over the stable: 

_Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, wise men from the east came to Jerusalem._   
_Saying, Where is he that is born King of the Jews? For we have seen His star in the east and are come to worship Him._

_When Herod the king had heard these things he was troubled and all Jerusalem with him._

The stage lights came up on the throne room of Herod. Sam was resplendent in his regalia, all courtesy of Sansa’s talented fingers. Catelyn kept her fingers crossed that Sam would remember his lines....

“Bring these wise men from the east to me! I wish to inquire about this _King_ that they have come to worship.” As Herod’s minions went to do his bidding, Sam dramatically plopped onto his throne, drumming his bejewelled fingers against his chair arm in boredom. The choir raised their voices and continued their song in full throat. 

A loud noise sounded from the back of the church. Clyde had obviously entered the building. Choir forgotten, the audience collectively turned their heads as the Wise Men made their way down the main aisle of the church. First came the servants, carrying banners which displayed the sigils of the respective nations from which the kings had traveled, Robb came next, looking suitably dashing in his white flowing robes and a sheikh like headdress that covered his ginger curls. He held an elaborate tray with the gold bar displayed in front of him. Minisa and Lyarra were giggling at their Daddy’s appearance while Jeyne mouthed an exaggerated _Oh, my!_ while fanning herself. Robb broke his solemn demeanor only briefly to wink at his three girls as he passed by. 

Theon came next, bearing the frankincense, and surrounded by his courtiers as well. He was also elaborately gowned with an elaborate silk turban wound around his head. 

At the rear came Bran riding on the scene-stealing Clyde. Bran wore a crown and gorgeous long robes that flowed across the camel’s hindquarters. In his hand he carried an expensive looking bottle containing the third gift of myrrh.

The kings arrived at the front of the stage and came to a stop in front of Herod’s throne. As Sam rather officiously greeted the visiting Wise Men, Clyde expressed his disdain by showing his teeth and snorting. The audience loved it. To his credit, Sam stayed in character. “Where is this child King that you are seeking?” The Wise Men all pointed to the brilliant star. “By all means,” Sam genially encouraged them. “Go to _Bethlehem_ (Catelyn sighed in relief when Sam got his geography right) and worship the child but then be sure to come back here and tell me all about him.” From the back of the sanctuary, an unidentified voice shouted, “Don’t do it!” 

Laughter abounded throughout the room. If Catelyn wasn’t absolutely sure of Arya and Rickon’s whereabouts, she would have suspected them. Despite the disruption, the audience was clearly enjoying the production so Catelyn allowed herself to loosen her clasped fingers. _Just one more scene...._

The three Kings arrived at the manger and joined the shepherds who were still kneeling before the baby. Robb and Theon both bowed and presented their gifts to a clearly amazed Mary and Joseph. Bran somehow persuaded Clyde to bow and his servant moved to receive the myrrh and add it to the pile of gifts which the Wise Men had brought to the infant. As the music swells again, Sansa picked up the baby and arranged him so that he was facing his supplicants and the audience. Jon placed a hand gently on Sansa’s shoulder. The choir, joined by Satin who is now hanging suspended over the manger, raised the rafters with a joyous rendition of _**“Oh Come All Ye Faithful.”**_

The lights came down leaving only the star and the choir as illumination. While the song continued, the cast lined up to receive for their curtain call. Catelyn closed her eyes in relief and sent up a prayer. _We made it! Thank you!_ Glancing backward, she saw the row of septas alternately applauding wildly while wiping tears from their eyes. The lights came back up revealing the cast lined across the stage with Jon and Sansa and the baby in the very middle. Catelyn was rendered speechless as she sees the congregation rising to its feet to give the cast a thunderous standing ovation. She turned and joined in applauding her friends and family. 

Ned stepped from the podium and joined the cast, taking a reluctant bow and then he gestured to Catelyn, holding out his hand to invite her to join them. The applause reached a crescendo again as she joined her husband. Tears in her eyes, Cat glanced along the line of cast members and then smiled as the cast moved backward to leave only Jon and Sansa standing in the forefront. She giggled when she realized that Ghost, the trusty sheep dog, had managed to join them. In spite of her pregnant state and holding a baby in her arms, Sansa manages a graceful curtsey. Jon reluctantly offered an embarrassed bow. Not to be outdone, Ghost stretched his huge front paws forward, causing his back end to raise in the air in a doggy bow. The audience applauded even louder and Catelyn looked down to see Lyarra beaming with pride at her favorite canine. 

Ned gestures for quiet and when the house settled somewhat, he spoke. “The Septas of St. Brendyn’s thank you for attending tonight and hope that this production will fill you with the joy and hope of Christmas. If you are able, please consider making a donation tonight. Acolytes will be at the doors to receive your donations as you leave. All proceeds will go toward the Septas wonderful work with the abandoned and orphaned children of the North.”

Applause erupted again as the house lights swept across the row where the Septas, thrilled to be acknowledged, sat. Ned motioned for quiet again. “I want to recognize four special people who are directly responsible for tonight’s pageant. Without them, this production could not have taken place. We are so happy that Hildreth Manderly has recovered enough to be present with us this evening. Hildreth started the planning and we appreciate all her work and effort.” Mrs. Manderly was a well-loved member of the church which was evident when applause sounded out for her as her husband assisted her to her feet. She smiled broadly as she waved at the audience and blew kisses toward the cast.

“My talented daughter, Sansa, stepped in at the last minute and designed the costumes. Many of the costumes you see tonight were also sewn by her personally.” Sansa flushed but curtseyed again as the congregation clapped wildly. 

Ned cleared his throat and gave a fond look toward his son-in-law. “In addition to being a truly wonderful Joseph, Jon Snow planned and supervised the construction of the stage and,” here Ned turned and pointed to the Bethlehem Star, “also designed _all_ of the magical elements that made this program truly special. Take another bow, son.”   
Catcalls, both male and female, ring out, as a red-faced Jon bowed again. Catelyn looked aghast toward the septas only to realize that they are among the loudest culprits. _St. Brendyn’s will never be the same_ , she thinks. 

Ned pulled her closer to his side. She leaned against him as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pressed a quick kiss to her head. “Finally, please give a round of applause to my amazing wife, Catelyn Stark, who took this daunting project on just two weeks ago and managed to bring it all together in a spectacular way.”  
As the audience applause finally died down once more, Ned looked down at his wife, giving her another hug. “I can honestly say that none of us would be on this stage tonight if it weren’t for you, Cat.” From the shepherd section comes a voice which sounds suspiciously like her youngest daughter. “You can say that again!” The crowd erupts with laughter and the lights come down one last time. 

***********************

The septas have prepared punch and cookies for a reception to be held in the fellowship hall. The cast slowly, but surely, makes their way to the hallway where they arrange themselves to shake hands with the congregants as they enter the room. Catelyn makes sure to seek out Jeor Mormont and he assures her that Mord and his assistant already have Clyde well under control. Tormund has provided the sheep, goats, and cow so he herds them into his farm trailer with Arya and Rickon’s assistance. The set can wait until next week to dismantle. Catelyn knows that Jon wants to personally supervise the project as many of the stage elements can be saved for future pageants.   
  
Catelyn has threatened Theon to within an inch of his life that neither he nor Tormund nor any of their cadre of miscreants are to put anything in any of the punch bowls that was not _100% Septa Approved_. Theon mutters, “Sure thing, Mrs. Cat,” but he doesn’t look her in the eye and so, in an abundance of caution, she gives poor Edd the job of keeping Greyjoy on his best behavior.

The reviews are spectacular. Everyone gushes about the stage, the lighting, the Star!, the costumes, and the cast. In particular, Sansa and Jon receive raves. When Jeor and his family make their way through the cast receiving line, Catelyn is introduced to Dany Targaryen. Jeor whispers to Cat that Dany is Jorah’s “special friend”, which is clearly Jeor’s way of telling her that Jorah is having an affair with a girl young enough to be his daughter.

Dany grabs Cat’s hand and goes _on and on and on_ about how much she enjoyed the production, especially that ruggedly good looking Wise Man in front and _oh my gosh,_ how much charisma and sheer rugged manliness did Jon Snow bring to his role? He is _soooo_ good looking! Is he for real? What I wouldn’t give to spend some time with him in his carpentry shop, as she winks at the older woman and whispers, _if_ _you know what I mean_. Catelyn gives her patented regal smile. She takes Dany’s arm and propels her gently, but firmly, toward where the rest of the Mormont family is waiting. “Thank you so much. We are so glad you came to see our little production. My _son-in-law_ is a novice performer but I agree he did a wonderful job!” 

Ned is standing next to her and coughs to cover his laughter. “Nobody does _pest_ eradication like you, my dear.” Catelyn giggles and rolls her tired shoulders in relief as she realizes that the line is finally thinning out and their greeting duties are at an end. She glances around the crowded fellowship hall. The cast is obviously basking in the adulation as they mingle with the congregation. Cat narrows her scrutiny making sure that each member of her immediate family is accounted for. She spies Robb with Jeyne as they helped their daughters with their punch and cookies; Bran and Rickon are at a table talking with some friends from school and Arya and Gendry are engaged in a conversation which seems strangely intimate. Filing that impression away for further consideration, Cat scans the room again and realizes that neither Sansa nor Jon are present. She grips Ned’s elbow to get his attention. “Where is Sansa? I can’t believe she is not here. She never wants to miss the punch and cookies after the program.” 

“Dunno, Cat, maybe they went home? I’m sure Sansa is worn out. My girl is amazin’ but I know she must be beyond exhausted. Not to mention how tired Jon must be.”  
Catelyn nods abstractedly, something niggling in her mother’s mind. “I suppose you’re right, Ned. I just worry about her you know.”

Ned pulls her into the hall by both hands. “I _know_ you do, Dear. It’s in your DNA. Jon will take good care of your daughter. Let’s go get some punch and cookies and then go home and let you put up your feet. You have another busy day tomorrow.”

************************

The cast was processing slowly off the stage. Jon had held Sansa back so that neither she nor the baby would be jostled accidentally by a cast member, animal or otherwise. Ghost was laying at her feet, ears perked up as he also stood guard. As they allowed the platform to clear, Sansa felt a tap on her shoulder and she turned to find the young novitiate that had greeted them the day before. The young girl reached for the Baby Jesus and Sansa found herself reflexively tightening her hold on the infant. “Mrs. Snow? Septa Anise sent me to fetch the baby. It is past time he was fed and put to bed for the night.” 

Sansa looked down at the infant in her arms. He was still awake. As his bright blue eyes solemnly looked back at her, she felt her heart tighten. For the first time that evening, her own child kicked her solidly as if in protest that she would even consider releasing this precious baby. Sansa murmured softly and pulled the blanket up around the baby’s dark curls. 

Jon had been zealously guarding her as the animals were led off the stage but when he heard Sansa sigh, his attention snapped back to her. His wife looked at him, moisture glimmering in her eyes. “Jon, it’s time for him to go back.” Jon placed his hand on Sansa’s back. “I know, sweetheart.” Sansa’s tears threatened to spill over as she looked down at the little fellow. She closed her eyes, swallowing hard, and bent her head to kiss him once, softly, on the top of his head. She gently placed him in the novitiate’s arms and stepped back, closing her eyes, and wrapping both arms around herself and her own child. The novitiate was halfway toward the exit when a deep voice called out, “Wait!” Sansa’s eyes flew open. Jon was striding across the stage and when he reached the novitiate, he bent down and kissed the baby himself. Jon looked intently at the infant for a long moment, his large hand completely enveloping the baby’s head. Finally releasing the novitiate with an abrupt nod, he stepped back. Turning back to his wife, Jon's dark eyes also shone with unshed tears.


	4. A Christmas Miracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cat can't understand why Sansa and Jon are not joining the rest of the Starks for their traditional Christmas morning breakfast. Cat hosts another amazing Christmas dinner with good food, friendship, laughs and a surprise or two.

  
_Christmas Morning, 9:00 a.m._

“Ned, they aren’t answering!” 

Ned stood at the kitchen counter, cutting apart the homemade cinnamon rolls Catelyn had just taken from the oven. The whole family, everyone that is, except Jon and Sansa, had made it to Winterfell early enough that Catelyn had been persuaded to whip up a large batch of her children’s favorite Christmas morning breakfast. While the older Starklings were rehashing last night’s Christmas pageant as Arya sent them all into stitches with her dead-on impersonation of Dany Targaryen, Minisa and Lyarra, still dressed in their Christmas pjs, were sitting still as mice on the high stools ranging around the kitchen island, waiting patiently for GrandNed to provide them with their rolls and some chocolate milk. 

“Cat, they’re probably just sleeping in,” Ned soothed. 

Catelyn shook her head vehemently as she hung up the land line and immediately began texting furiously on her cell phone. “No, that’s not Sansa. She would _never_ miss Christmas morning with us. Something is definitely wrong, Ned.”

Ned waggled his eyebrows at his granddaughters as he set their plates before them with a gallant bow. Rickon attempted to sneak past his father to grab a roll earning a smart smack with the dish towel Ned wielded with deadly accuracy. “Ow!” complained Rickon. 

Ned called for everyone to take a place around the counter. Robb and Jeyne flanked their daughters while Arya and Rickon helped Bran into a seat at the high bar, then took their places around their brother. Ned set a heaping plateful of rolls on the counter. Crossing his arms and leaning against the counter, he watched fondly as his children and daughter-in-law playfully fought over his wife’s handiwork. On special days such as this one, Ned couldn’t help thinking about how blessed he was to be married to Cat and how lucky they were to have five good looking, intelligent children, two beautiful and very extraordinary grandchildren, and with one undoubtedly perfect grandchild well on the way. He glanced over at Cat and frowned. She was absorbed in intently reading a message on her phone. 

“Cat, what is it?” Cat looked up, brushing her auburn bob to one side as she responded with a disappointed sigh. “Jon answered my text. He says everything is fine, but he and Sansa won’t be able to make it over this morning. He said they will see us tonight at dinner.”

Ned pursed his lips and looked over his wife’s shoulder at her phone. “Hmmm. You’re right. Doesn’t sound like our daughter or Jon for that matter. They have never missed a Christmas morning before that I can recall.”

Cat shook her head and Ned could tell she was teetering on tears. “I can’t help but think that something is going on, Ned. Sansa would be here otherwise.” 

Ned wrapped his arms around his wife’s middle and kissed her cheek. “Well, she’s a grown woman, Cat, and she has her husband with her. If Jon says that everything is alright, we have to trust him. I’m guessing we’ll find out more tonight.”

Ned reached over Rickon’s shoulder and grabbed two cinnamon rolls, biting into one and handing the other to his wife who primly reached for a napkin. Ned knew that his wife would not be truly content until she saw her daughter and son-in-law later that day.

**************************

_Christmas Day, Stark Christmas Dinner, 5:00 p.m._

Cat stood by the large double doors that served as the entrance into the Great Hall at Winterfell. Ned was positioned on the opposite side. Their guests were streaming in, exchanging holiday good wishes and hugs as they entered. While the Great Hall was rarely open, being too large and entirely too medieval for day to day use, Cat always had the room opened for special occasions. Cat had always entertained romantic visions of past generations celebrating in this room going all the way back to the days, centuries before, when Starks had ruled the North and would have received their bannermen to swear fealty before the great fireplace that ran the length of the hall. She thought its ambiance was particularly appropriate at Christmastime.

Tonight a fire roared in the hearth, providing extra heat to the cavernous room. Festive garlands hung from every surface, candles were casting warm shadows along the walls, and the ancient banquet tables were groaning from the weight of food that Cat and her friends had prepared. While Ned would suggest from time to time that they cease the tradition of the Stark Christmas dinner, Cat knew that her husband wasn’t really serious; he enjoyed it every bit as much as she did. 

All of their family and friends were in attendance, the room swelling with the laughter of nearly eighty people. The guest list had expanded significantly because Cat had felt herself compelled to invite those folks who had been so helpful with the pageant. As usual, Mr. and Mrs. Manderly were in attendance, but Cat had also invited Jeor Mormont and his family. She shot a meaningful glare toward Arya when Dany entered, sending a clear message that there were to be no obvious impersonations whilst the person being imitated was actually in the room. Arya had merely grinned and turned back to the game of corn hole that had been set up in the far corner of the room. Cat noticed that Gendry had joined Arya and Theon and she reminded herself once more to keep an eagle eye on that situation. She was pleasantly surprised to find that Arya had also invited Mord’s assistant to join them in a game; evidently, Arya had seen him offer Clyde a bunch of carrots after last night’s performance and that had softened her anger toward him considerably. Mord was in the hall as well, presently simultaneously digging into the two plates of food sitting directly in front of him. 

To Catelyn’s surprise, Brienne and Tormund had arrived together. At one point Ned had nodded, calling Cat’s attention to the tall couple who were seated in a corner, cozily sharing a plate of food. Tormund looked deliriously happy while Brienne, if not ecstatic, at least appeared content with her companion. _A Christmas miracle!_ Cat thought to herself. 

Davos and his wife were sitting at a table with Ned’s brother, Benjen and Ned's old friend, Howland Reed. The Seaworths were clearly enjoying some tall tale that Benjen was relating from his many trips North of the Wall. Meera Reed was sitting by the fireplace with Bran, engaged in an enthusiastic game of War. From the way that both were absorbed in the game, Catelyn suspected that money might be on the table. 

A few couples had made it to the dance floor and were swaying in time to the music provided by the small orchestra Cat had hired for the evening. Robb and Jeyne had managed to persuade Rickon to entertain his nieces so that they could join in; Cat smiled as she watched Robb pull his wife in close to place a soft kiss on her lips as Jeyne wrapped both arms around her son’s neck.

Grenn, Pyp and Edd had met some young female guests who were otherwise unattached and were having a great time getting acquainted. Cat noticed that Minisa had pulled little Sam over to play with her and Lyarra, affording Gilly the opportunity to try and entice Sam to the dance floor as well. It wasn’t working so far, but Cat thought Sam might be persuaded once Jon and Sansa joined in. 

_Sansa and Jon._ Cat gnawed at her lip as she looked around the huge chamber. Jon and Sansa were still absent with the dinner now in full swing. Something was definitely not right and she was almost beside herself. She absently excused herself from a conversation with Maege Mormont and went to retrieve her cell phone. She checked her texts and frowned when nothing new appeared. Cat caught Ned’s eye; he understood her unspoken message and also looked around the room. While Ned would try his best to keep her fears in check, she could tell that he was also beginning to wonder about his oldest daughter’s continued absence from what was one of her favorite events of the year. 

Cat made her way to her husband. “Ned, something is not right.” Her husband nodded, “Aye. What should we do?”

Cat took a deep breath. “I think we should go to their house. Check on them.” Ned took Cat’s hands in his and, as always, his calm presence steadied her.“Let’s give it fifteen more minutes, O.K? If they don’t show by 6:00, I’ll excuse myself and go check on them.” 

Cat nodded. Ned pulled her in for a quick kiss and she closed her eyes, reveling in his warmth.   
As they pulled apart, loud cat calls came from the corn hall section of the room. Cat kept her eyes closed and whispered to her husband, “Let me guess: Arya and Theon?” Ned nodded, biting his lip to keep from laughing as he glared sternly in that direction. Theon responded by raising his mug and toasting his blushing hosts. “Good on you, Mr. Stark,” he called out. You and Mrs. Cat are the hottest thing I’ve seen this entire.....” Theon trailed off, his attention suddenly focused on the entrance to the hall. 

Cat and Ned turned as one and Cat breathed out a sigh of relief. Sansa and Jon had finally arrived! 

Sansa looked glorious. She drew off her wrap to reveal a flowing dress in soft tones of blue and pink that did little to hide her baby bump. Her auburn hair was caught up in a long braid that hung down her back. Jon was handsome with his dark curls loose about his face. He was wearing a charcoal gray sweater, light blue button down, and dark trousers. He was carrying a large wicker basket with red bows tied to each handle. The top of the basket was covered by a plaid blanket. Sansa smiled when she caught sight of Cat and Ned. Pulling Jon along, she made her way to her parents. “Merry Christmas, Mama! Merry Christmas, Daddy!” Cat embraced her daughter, closing her eyes in relief that she was obviously in good spirits and health. “Sansa, dear, where have you and Jon been? We have been worried sick!” 

Jon shifted his weight from one foot to the other, still clutching the covered basket. “We’re sorry, Cat, didn’t mean to make you worry but,” Jon paused, glancing over at Sansa who smiled back in a way that clearly said, _we have a secret_ , “...you see, we were sorting out your Christmas present and just couldn’t get here any sooner.” 

Ned smiled at his son-in-law. “You know that Cat and I don’t expect gifts, Jon.” 

Jon smiled back as he held the basket out for their inspection as Sansa moved closer. “I know you don’t, but this is a special present and we just couldn’t resist.” Sansa nodded encouragingly toward her mother who drew closer. By now most of the room’s occupants were watching with avid interest. Cat drew back the blanket and gasped as she looked down to see the solemn eyes of a tiny baby looking right back at her. She stepped back, clasping her throat and glanced at her daughter who was smiling even though her eyes were shimmering with unshed tears. Cat glanced back down as Ned also stepped in to take a peak. _It was the baby from the pageant!_

Sansa stepped closer and whispered. “Mama, Jon and I couldn’t leave him at the orphanage. We stayed up all night, talking about him, and by this morning we just knew that he was meant to be with us. _Look_ at him, Mama. He could be our own child.” Cat looked down and recognized what Sansa meant. Dark curls like Jon’s; big eyes of cerulean blue just like Sansa. “He is beautiful,” she breathed. 

Ned coughed. “You mean to have him as your own, daughter?” Sansa nodded. “We do, Daddy. I know you may think we are taking on too much, what with our own baby coming in a month or so. But Jon and I can afford two children and we love him so much already.”

Jon cleared his throat and spoke softly. “We spoke to Septa Anise this morning. We will have to formally apply to be his foster-to-adopt family, but the Septa saw no impediment to our approval. We want to adopt him and while it may take some time, he needs to be home with us in the meantime.” 

“Are you both sure?” Ned asked in a husky voice even as he stroked the infant’s soft cheek. Jon and Sansa nodded in tandem as Sansa laughed. “Even if we weren’t sure, we wouldn’t have much choice. The Septa called us at 5:00 this morning to inform us that Ghost had shown up at the orphanage. Somehow he got into the building and was whining and scratching at the nursery door. The novitiates tried to entice him with a steak but he wouldn’t budge. When they finally opened the nursery door, he went straight to this little one’s crib and was still right there when we arrived.”

Jon ran a hand through his curls and added, “We didn’t even realize that Ghost had gotten out of the house! Sansa and I decided then and there that this was meant to happen. Ghost was just trying to push us in the right direction.” 

Cat looked around, realizing that all the Starklings had drawn near while their guests were beginning to form a larger circle around the family. Jeyne and Robb pressed closer, each holding one of their little girls so that they could see inside the basket. “It’s the baby Jesus, Daddy!” Minisa breathed. Jon smiled at his niece. “That’s right, Min. He played the baby Jesus, but he was just acting last night. He’s going to be your forever cousin for real. Would you like that?” Minisa and Lyarra both nodded emphatically. 

“Does the little guy have a name?” Rickon asked, offering a finger which the baby promptly grasped. Jon nodded and clapped his young brother-in-law on the shoulder, drawing him even closer. “Allow me to introduce you to Judah Benjen Snow. We are going to call him Jude for short.” 

Arya looked over her mother’s shoulder at the baby. _“Hey, Jude!”_ she softly sang out with a lilting laugh. The conductor, who like everyone else in the room, had been avidly watching the proceedings turned to the orchestra which promptly struck up a chorus of the Beatles song, causing the room to erupt in laughter.

Cat brushed a hand over her eyes and looked at her husband who also had a suspicious sheen to his gaze. She hugged Jon and Sansa fiercely. “Well, it’s about time you three showed up! Go on and fill your plates.” She pressed her hand to Sansa’s cheek. “Remember, dear, you are still eating for two.” Ned took the basket from Jon and Cat shooed them away with both hands. “Go enjoy yourselves. Your father and I will take care of little Master Jude here while you do!” 

Placing the basket on a table, Ned reached in and lifted Jude from his soft bed. Cat and Ned gathered him close He looked back at both of them with eyes that seemed somehow both older and wiser than his age warranted. Cat sensed that this baby was in fact very special. “Hullo, little fella,” Ned whispered as Cat placed a hand gently on Jude’s small head. She scanned the room again seeing her friends and family laughing and enjoying each other’s company. Sansa and Jon had filled their plates but promptly set them aside when Gilly laughingly pulled them onto the dance floor with her and Sam. Jon wrapped his arms around Sansa and they swayed to the music, Sansa’s baby bump tucked safely between them.

Cat looked up at Ned as he lovingly held the newest addition to their family. “This has been quite a Christmas, Ned.” 

Ned nodded, “It certainly has! But let’s try not to repeat it next year, if you please. Too much stress and strain.” He gently bounced Jude up and down, wagging his eyebrows and speaking dramatically as he always did when entertaining his grandchildren, “What with hippos AND camels AND sheep AND goats AND dogs AND....” he looked around with a furtive grin and then whispered so that only Cat and Jude could hear. “Mord!”

“Ned, behave!” A noise caused them both to look down at the small bundle Ned held. The baby was much too young to actually laugh but both Ned and Cat would both swear ever after that was exactly what Judah Benjen Snow did at that very moment. And, of course, Ned and Catelyn joined in, full of love and hope and the joy of holding a Christmas miracle in their arms. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this little Christmas story is almost complete. Just a short epilogue set a year later which will bring us up to date with Ned, Cat, the Starklings and, of course, Jude Snow.


	5. Unaware of Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One year after the Stark Christmas pageant, a very special day for Jon and Sansa, and the Starks, has arrived.

  
December 23 - _One Year after the Stark Christmas Pageant_

  
“All right, buddy, just hold still and help your Da out with these confounded snaps.” Jon bent over his son, teeth biting his lower lip as he started snapping, starting with the bottom left of his son’s red corduroy romper. Sansa had instructed him that the best way to make sure he didn’t miss even one of the pesky fasteners was to start at one end, match the fabric end to end, proceeding up to Jude’s diaper apex, and then back down the other side. If there was an unsightly gap, he had managed to miss one and would need to start over from that point. 

Year old Jude lay calmly on his handcrafted English Oak changing table, looking up at his father as if understanding that his poor Dad needed all the help he could get to finish dressing him up in the outfit Sansa had selected for this very special day. Soft lullabies played over the bluetooth speaker sitting on Jude’s dresser. Normally when Jon entered his son’s room, he was struck by the calming influence of the blue and gray color scheme and the spaciousness of the room. Today, however, he was on edge. Sansa had her hands full with their ten month old daughter, Catelyn Lyanna, so Jon had been assigned the simpler task of dressing his boy for the ceremony. _Maybe simpler for my talented wife but not for me!_

Jon knew that no matter how much the long row of snaps caused him grief, Sansa still had an infinitely harder job. When dressed Lyanna would undoubtedly be decked out in white tights over her diaper, white ruffled panties over the tights, and black patent shoes on her tiny feet. Then there was the outfit itself: A white blouse with a Peter Pan collar and innumberable tiny buttons, underneath a corduroy dress with a long sash in the back, the color exactly matching Jude’s little boy overalls. Sansa, of course, had sewn both outfits and her crowning achievement were the embroidered wolves, white in color with ruby eyes, that were embroidered on the front of both Lyanna and Jude’s clothing. Sansa would also have the job of taming Lyanna’s auburn curls in some semblance of order and weaving red and white ribbons in her hair to complete the look. On the other hand, Jude’s dark curls, so like Jon’s own, just needed a spritz of water to calm the frizzies and a quick comb through with a wet brush to make him look handsome as all get out. _Thank the seven for wet brushes!_

Jon sighed in relief as he reviewed his assignment. All snaps present and accounted for! He stood Jude up on his chubby little legs and making sure to hold him so he couldn’t fall from the table, Jon smoothed the white turtleneck down under the jumper and then picked his little boy up. Jude immediately wrapped his tiny arms around Jon’s neck and laid his head against his father’s shoulder. For perhaps the thousandth time since they had brought him home on Christmas Day, Jon closed his eyes and gave thanks for the miracle that was his son. 

“Sweet boy,” Jon chimed out to his son as he patted his little behind. “Let’s get your shoes on and your hair combed and you will be _Ready to Partay_!” Jude gave Jon a toothy grin and Jon remembered, just in the nick of time, that Sansa had given him strict instructions to tie the matching bib around Jude’s neck in order to catch the drools caused by his teething. “Otherwise,” she had reminded Jon, as she laid out her son’s clothes on the table, “his front will be soaked and we won’t get the best picture of him in his cute clothes when we are done.” 

Jon tied the short bib around his son’s neck and carried Jude over to the mirror that hung on the wall over his dresser. “Look how handsome you are, Buddy!” he commented to his son. 

“Two handsome boys, for sure,” came a soft rejoinder from the door. Jon turned and gave a low whistle. His wife stood, dressed in a killer red sheath that draped around her restored curves as if it was a part of her body. Sansa had eschewed her normal everyday braid for a comb out that had her long auburn hair curling softly down her back and along her face. She was holding their daughter who was wriggling in her Mama’s arms. Lyanna clapped her hands in glee upon seeing her father and her big brother. “Da, Da. Ja, Ja,” she chanted. 

Lyanna had been born during the worst February snowstorm in memory. After going into labor early on the morning of the first, Sansa had labored like a trooper for over twenty four hours before delivering Lyanna, red faced and squalling. Jon, crying so hard that he could barely see, had cut the cord and laid their daughter in Sansa’s exhausted arms. Later, as the Starks had all crowded around the nursery window for their first look, Arya had drily commented, “She came on Groundhog Day. Are you and Sansa going to repeat this routine every year around this time?” The Starklings had all laughed at Arya’s quip, but Jon had caught Ned and Cat’s somber glances. While Jon and Sansa had kept the news from her siblings, her parents knew that the obstetrician had cautioned Sansa from getting pregnant again too soon, if ever again. Her blood pressure had spiked dangerously during labor and she had bled heavily before Dr. Martel had been able to stop it. He had told Jon she needed rest and a long recuperation before they should even consider the possibility of another child.

Jon had smiled tremulously back at his in-laws, hefting the weight of his infant son in his arms so that little Jude could see his newborn sister. His unspoken message to his in-laws was clear: _Sansa and I have our family and the two of them are more than enough for us._

It hadn’t been easy at first, caring for two babies born just a few months apart. For the first six months Jon had forgotten what an uninterrupted night of sleep - _make that an uninterrupted three hours of sleep_ \- felt like. He had taken over Jude’s nighttime feedings as well as running interference when Lyanna woke, trying - _usually unsuccessfully_ \- to reach her before she started wailing loud enough to wake Jude who typically had just settled back down. He became an expert at holding two babes at one time, bouncing Jude up and down in one arm to soothe him back to sleep while scurrying to deposit Lya as they called her for short, into the care of her sleepy mother. 

Then, just as Lya turned three months old and Dr. Naath, their pediatrician, told them _“She absolutely must have colic to still be crying all night long. She should be sleeping at least five hours straight!_ ,” Jon had sleepily stumbled from Sansa’s side of the bed down the darkened hallway into the wrong room and accidentally deposited Lya into the same crib that her older brother occupied. The next morning, Sansa had woke Jon, frantic because Lya wasn’t in her nursery. Jon had bolted upright: _Seven hells, what had he done?_ He had rushed down the hallway, intent on making sure he hadn’t left his baby daughter downstairs due to some misfire of his frazzled brain, only to be brought up short by the sound of two babies happily gurgling in Jude’s room. He had crept over to the crib and peered inside, Sansa right behind him. There, facing each other, lay his son and daughter, tiny hands reaching out for each other while sounds of delight emanated from their onesie covered little chests. The next evening, Jude and Lya slept in the same crib and they snoozed peacefully _through_ the night. Nearly a year later, the two infants remained inseparable and it was widely known in the family that Lya was truly content only when she was with Jude. Bran called them twins born two months apart. Theon, _being Theon_ , ribbed Jon constantly about just exactly what he had been up to for Jude to be so similar to him in looks and demeanor. Jon and Sansa would just look at each other and smile. Jude was a Christmas miracle and as such, there was no true explanation for just how special he really was. 

Jon exchanged children with Sansa and placed a soft kiss on his baby girl’s beribboned head. “So pretty you are,” he cooed, “just like your Mama!” Lya gurgled and patted Jon’s cheek. Then, par for the course, she reached out for Jude. “Not now, Snowlings,” Sansa chided, “We don’t have time for the two of you to play right now. We have a very important meeting to make!” Jon kissed the fingers on his wife’s free hand. In turn, Sansa clasped Jon’s hand, and together, each with a baby in tow, they exited the nursery for their trip downtown.   
  
***********************

“ALL RISE. Oy ye, Oy ye, silence is commanded in the Winterfell Superior Court. Stannis Baratheon, Senior Judge, presiding. All those having causes needing to be heard shall herewith make your pleas before this honorable Court. You may be seated.” Grenn, the court’s bailiff, glanced over at his friends, Jon and Sansa, where they sat in the front row, grinning at them even as he took his stance to the right of the Judge. 

“Thank you, Bailiff. You may all be seated.” Stannis Baratheon gathered his black robe around him as he sat down in the high backed leather chair behind the judge’s bench. He peered down at those seated on the court benches placed behind the bar. Despite the snowy weather, there was quite a crowd, not that he had expected anything less. It wasn’t every day that the Starks adopted a new wolf pup into their pack. He had been flattered when his old fishing buddy, Ned Stark, had called him to ask if he would preside over the ceremony. “Of course, Ned. Anything for your family.”

Stannis had watched Ned’s daughter, Sansa, grow from a tadpole into a beautiful woman. He and his wife had attended all of her graduations - high school, university, and then medical school - and he couldn’t be prouder if she had been his own. Then there was Jon Snow. He had grown up with the Starks and the Judge knew that Ned thought of the boy as his own son. 

Stannis felt it was only fitting that he preside over the adoption ceremony. After all, he had been one of many sitting in St. Brendyn’s cathedral last Christmas Eve that had watched Jon and Sansa so ably portray the Holy Family in the pageant. Just a day later, he had been in attendance at the Stark holiday dinner and had witnessed Jon and Sansa announce their intentions to adopt the baby.

Stannis cleared his throat and spoke in commanding tones. “Case No. 19-AD-777. Jon Snow and Sansa Minisa Snow, Petitioners, seeking to adopt an infant male, born December 2 of last year.” Jon and Sansa stood. “Mr. and Mrs. Snow, are you represented by counsel?”

Robb Stark rose from his place behind counsel table and motioned for Jon and Sansa to join him. “They are, Your Honor. Robb Stark, representing the petitioners.” 

Stannis picked up the court record and thumbed the file open. “Very good, Mr. Stark. I have reviewed the pleadings and it appears that the baby’s biological mother is deceased. Baby’s father’s parental rights have been terminated by a judgment of the Superior Court of King’s Landing. Report of social services recommending Mr. and Mrs. Snow as fit and capable parents is noted in the file. Have you prepared an Order of Adoption, Mr. Stark?”

Robb nodded and pulled a legal size document from his file. “I have, Your Honor.” Judge Baratheon nodded and Grenn moved to receive the document from Robb’s hands, taking it to the Judge who perused it for several minutes. “Yes, well, everything seems to be in order, counsel. Good work.” 

“Thank you, Your Honor.” 

The Judge motioned for Jon and Sansa to step forward. Jon held the boy, a handsome baby with dark curly hair like his father and blue eyes of a shade nearly identical to those of his mother. Not for the first time in his long tenure as a judge, Stannis wondered at the coincidence that these chosen children so often ended up resembling their adoptive parents. Sansa held their daughter, a gorgeous curly headed tot with Sansa’s red hair and Jon’s big brown eyes. Stannis glanced over at Ned and Cat who were seated in the front of the courtroom, beaming proudly as Stark family and friends crowded into the rows behind them.

He cleared his throat again. “Before I enter this decree of adoption, I have several questions for the two of you.” He looked over the readers perched at the end of his nose and took in the young couple, Jon swallowing nervously while Sansa gazed back wide-eyed. 

“If I approve this adoption, will you love this child as if he were the progeny of your own bodies? Will you love him as much as you love your daughter who is your own biological child?”

Jon and Sansa responded without hesitation. “We will.”

“Will you care for him, nurture him, educate him, provide for him, guide him, and above all, love him, for all the remaining days of your lives?” 

A confident response. “We will.”

Stannis looked directly at Jon. “Tell me what you have decided to name your son.”

Jon looked directly at the Judge. “Judah Benjen Snow, Your Honor. We call him Jude for short.”

“And how did you come to select that name for this child?” Jon looked over at Sansa as if to say, _your turn_ , and she spoke without hesitation. “Benjen is the name of my father’s younger brother. Uncle Benjen is in the courtroom today. He is very dear to both me and my husband.” Stannis picked Benjen Stark out where he sat in his military uniform, tall and proud, with a glimmer of what looked suspiciously like a tear in his eye. “Benjen is also a derivative of Benjamin, who was the youngest son of Jacob and one of the twelve tribes of the nation of Israel.” Sansa paused, and Jon continued. 

“Judah is _not_ a family name. But Judah was also one of the twelve sons of Jacob and was the tribe from which Joseph, the earthly father of Jesus, descended.” Jon paused and fondly touched the curls of the little boy he held. “As the Court may know, we met Jude when we played the parts of Mary and Joseph in the Christmas pageant. He was the baby Jesus. It seemed fitting to us that his name somehow reflect the background of Jesus.” 

Stannis nodded and bestowed a rare smile upon the young couple. “Thank you for your explanation. I happen to believe that the names we bestow upon our children matter a great deal. What we are called signifies what we may be. You have chosen well for your son.” 

Stannis picked up his pen and signed the order. “By the power vested in me, I hereby enter this Order of Adoption naming Jon Snow and Sansa Minisa Snow the legal parents of Benjen Judah Snow. From henceforth and forever, he is your child. Congratulations!” 

Applause erupted and cat calls ensued, dying down as Stannis gaveled for quiet. Robb had turned around, glaring directly at Arya, Rickon and Theon. Stannis held the crowd in suspense for a long moment and then gaveled once more. “I hereby order you to.... celebrate!” 

****************************

Catelyn Stark stood just behind the bar that separated the judicial space from the audience. She smiled as she watched Satin direct Jon and Sansa into the optimum position for a dignified group picture with the Judge. Stannis was not exactly known as a _kid friendly_ man but his stoic expression miraculously cracked into a smile when Jude reached out to him. The Judge ended up holding the little fellow for the picture. She then watched Ned push through the swinging gate and shake Stannis’ hand once the pictures were out of the way. She held back as family and friends swarmed Jon and Sansa and their two tots. Satin kept his Canon busy, clicking away at a furious pace as he got candids of the whole event. 

Catelyn thought back to a year ago when she had been kicking herself for taking on the responsibility of producing the Christmas pageant. Now, she could only offer thanks that poor Hildreth Manderly had landed in a hospital bed and she had been convinced to assume the director’s chair. If that had not happened, Jon and Sansa might never have met the sweet baby they had just welcomed officially into their family. 

_Everyone_ loved Jude....Jon, Sansa, Lya, _especially Lya_ , family - of course- but friends and _even_ strangers were drawn to him. Catelyn watched as Tormund confiscated Jude from Jon’s arms and lifted him high in the air, causing the baby to giggle in delight, even as Brienne clutched her new husband’s arm, sternly warning him to be careful. Grenn, Edd, and Pyp all waited their turn to congratulate Jon on becoming the father of a fine son. Sam and Gilly stood near Robb and Jeyne, both couples sharing the excitement that came from knowing that each would be welcoming new little ones in the spring. Lyarra, Minisa, and little Sam stood excitedly by their parents, all holding adoption gifts for Jude and smaller ones for Lya as well. The Septas had made a point to attend the adoption proceedings....Septa Mordane, Anise, and of course, Septa Beth, the young novitiate charged with Jude’s care when he was in the orphanage, were all beaming from the third row. 

Theon and Rickon were entertaining Lya, making sure that she didn’t feel left out, both mugging and blowing bubbles to her endless delight. Meera Reed stood beside Bran as he sat calmly in his wheelchair, holding a big hand-lettered sign that read, **Hey Jude, Welcome to the Family!** Arya for once was on her best behavior, standing next to Gendry and secretly holding his hand when she thought no one was looking. 

Satin interrupted Catelyn’s musings as he barked out instructions for a group family picture. Catelyn caught her daughter’s eye and she smiled again as Sansa motioned for her to stand next to her. As Ned flanked his son-in-law, Catelyn embraced her daughter, then hugged her little Lya, taking the sweet baby scent deep into her lungs. Just behind Cat, Robb hugged Jeyne to him, arm wrapping protectively around her growing middle while their little girls stood just in front of GrandNed. Arya insistently pulled Gendry into the picture, his face turning as red as Sansa’s dress as their friends chanted his name. Rickon pushed Bran to Cat’s side and then scurried around to insert himself between Lyarra and Minisa, causing them to giggle furiously. While everyone was getting into place, a beaming Sansa turned to Cat. “Mama, I am _so_ very happy! I have everything I ever dreamed of....Jon, Lya, and now... Jude. He is finally, truly, ours!” 

Catelyn felt tears spring to her eyes, grateful that her daughter who loved children so very much and who might never have another child of her own, had nevertheless been blessed with this special little boy to love and cherish. Satin continued directing them rather imperiously to look at the camera and everyone behind him, the Septas included, made silly faces to get the babies to pay attention and smile. Just as Satin snapped the picture, a beam of afternoon sun shone through the skylight in the courtroom, casting the room in an almost unearthly golden glow.   
  
************************

Two weeks later, on the first Sunday after New Year’s Day, Ned and Catelyn were enjoying a well deserved post holiday rest before a blazing fire in the den at Winterfell. Ned’s feet were propped up on an ottoman and Cat was curled up next to him on the couch, a novel in her lap, with her husband’s heavy arm wrapped comfortably around her shoulders. The doorbell rang. “Who could that be?” Ned grumbled as he stood and shuffled down the long hallway to answer the door. Cat turned the page in her book over as a marker and sat it down as she heard Ned call out, “Come in! Come in!” She sat up and turned to see Satin Flowers, dapper as always, follow   
Ned into the family room. As usual he was dressed to the nines and he was carrying a large envelope.

“Satin, so good to see you!” Cat patted the couch beside her, indicating that he should sit. “What brings you here?” 

Satin remained standing. He cleared his throat and shuffled his feet a bit as he ran his hands up and down the envelope. Cat realized that Satin, unflappable, _cool as a cucumber_ , Satin Flowers, was actually nervous. She pointed to the envelope. “Satin, what is in that envelope?”

Satin coughed and proceeded to open the flap as he spoke. “Well, Mr. and Mrs. Stark, I wanted to show you this before I gave it to Jon and Sansa. I don’t know exactly what to make of it and I thought you might have an opinion. I’ve taken lots of pictures and I know that light can sometimes do strange things, but this, well this,... I just have no explanation for, and so....” Satin trailed off as he pulled a photo from the envelope. 

Ned and Cat came to either side of their guest and looked down at the picture he held. It was a copy of the group photo they had taken on December 23, the day of Jude’s adoption. Ned raised his eyebrows, sending an unspoken request to hold the picture and Satin relinquished it. Ned was grinning as he surveyed the family photo but then, after a moment or two, he halted, a strange look on his face, and he wordlessly handed the picture over to his wife.

Cat looked at the picture and smiled. Her entire family was featured in the photo, all present and accounted for. This was a priceless photo for her and Cat determined that she would ask Satin to enlarge it to portrait size so she could hang it in a conspicuous location at Winterfell. As she scanned each precious face, Cat thought it was truly a work of art, and she looked lovingly at each visage again, pausing only when she reached baby Jude. Her mouth opened in a small “ _Ohhh_ ” and she glanced up at the men standing beside her. Thinking back she remembered the beam of light that had unexpectedly appeared through the skylight just as Satin had snapped the picture. She had thought little of it then, but now as she gazed at her beautiful grandson, she realized the light was clearly more than just a coincidence of nature. The picture depicted all of the family - laughing - smiling - enjoying themselves as only Starklings could. Only little Jude was looking directly at the camera, a solemn gaze on his pretty face, his beautiful blue eyes so deep and calm and _knowing_ , and the ray of light that seemed to beam directly on him, and him alone, had created an actual halo around his dark curls. 

Ned looked at Cat, Cat looked at Ned, and Satin helplessly shrugged his shoulders looking at them both, as he pointed at the nimbus encircling Jude’s head. “So, Mr. and Mrs. S., what do you think this is?” Ned smiled over Satin’s head at his wife and then answered in his deep voice. “I don’t think, Satin, I _know_ what it is.” Cat looked at him and smiled then too. She spoke softly, her finger tracing over the face of her little grandson with reverence and awe. “It’s obvious, dear Satin. It is, and has _always_ been, a Christmas miracle.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I leave it to you as readers to determine just exactly who, and what, Jude is. I personally think that every child has a bit of angel inside them when they are born, and, like Peter Pan's imagination, that spark of angelic beauty generally dims as children grow and become adults. Jude may be the exception to the rule and he may be something even more, but that is for you as readers to decide. Certainly, he is a miracle for Sansa and Jon given Sansa's medical prognosis, which may or may not, be permanent. I also leave that to you as the reader to imagine as you will. Finally, as I described Jude as special and loved by all, I couldn't help but think about how Jon was always special in GOT, his royal qualities shadowed but not entirely hidden. I hope you enjoyed this little Christmas story. Now that I have finished this tale, for those of you who are interested, I intend to mosey on back to the Westerosi Express to rescue Jon, Sansa, Sam and Gilly from their involuntary hiatus. Happy New Year!


End file.
